


Missed Connection

by Abagail_Snow



Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-22
Updated: 2015-10-22
Packaged: 2018-04-27 15:34:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,983
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5054221
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Abagail_Snow/pseuds/Abagail_Snow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When his flight is delayed, Peeta runs into someone unexpected from his past.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Missed Connection

Peeta rushed across the terminal, dodging around the travelers who had set up camp along the walkway to snatch up a coveted power outlet. Of course his connecting flight would be on the complete other side of the airport. He hadn't even considered the possibility when he was booking the flight with the 35 minute layover.

He could see his gate number just past the Hudson News stand. He was going to make it.

"Good evening and welcome to Flight 1274 with service to New York, Laguardia. For those just joining us in the boarding area, if you've looked out the window, you've probably noticed that your aircraft is nowhere to be seen. Unfortunately, your aircraft was delayed out of Denver, but is currently en route. Boarding will begin as soon as we get it deplaned and cleaned up for you. New estimated time of departure is 8:10 PM."

Peeta groaned. The original flight was supposed to leave at 6:30, and the only reason he'd picked the two leg flight was because it would get him home before midnight. He pulled out his phone and began searching the airline for an alternative. At this rate he'd fly into Newark if he had to.

He hadn't eaten on the first flight, and he meandered through the news stand while he scrolled through his phone, picking up a bag of Doritos and some peanuts.

"I think I might know you."

Peeta didn't want to look up.

It would probably be important to disclose that while Peeta wasn't  _technically_  famous, he had been picking up a lot of buzz in the comedy world, and while it was rare for people to recognize him on the street, it had happened a handful of times. Four to be exact, and Peeta was not in the mood for number five.

"Probably not," he said, keeping his head down.

"Panem High School?" He was wearing his varsity wrestling sweatshirt. "Peeta Mellark, right?"

He glanced up. His jaw went slack. He had to blink a few times to make sure he wasn't imagining it. "Kat -- Katniss Everdeen?"

And there she was, standing before him, Katniss Everdeen, star of his dreams from age 5 to 18 with a recurring guest spot age 18 to present. When he was a kid, he was certain he'd marry her. When he was in high school, he hoped that maybe they could date at least. But they didn't, and when graduation came, they parted without speaking as much as a word to each other. And that was it.

He blinked again.

"I thought I recognized you at the gate. The sweatshirt at least. You don't see many of those outside of Pittsburgh."

"It doesn't see the outside of my close much either," was the only thing he could think to say. "You're on that flight? The one to New York?" he said quickly, before he could go into detail about his awful laundry habit.

"If it ever gets here."

He slipped his phone back in his pocket. He could wait.

"I know. Selfishly, it's a blessing in disguise for me. I almost missed it."

She glanced over her shoulder at the crowd swarming the gate agents. "I think the other passengers may have been fine with leaving you behind."

He chuckled, his laughter melting into an awkward silence that he was desperate to avoid. He had to keep this conversation going.

"I was going to grab a bite to eat," he said, holding up the bags of junk food in his hands and shoving them hastily back onto the shelf. "Do something to pass the time. You want to get a drink?"

She looked at the gate again, probably at the empty seat she'd vacated. Her fingers tensed around the strap of her duffle bag, which was slung over her shoulder. She shrugged. "Um, yeah. Sure. Why not?"

They got a table at Chili's. A date 20 some odd years in the making, and he was sitting at a Chili's, hacking away at a dry steak with plastic silverware.

Katniss stirred her margarita with her straw, keeping her eyes on the table. He was blowing this.

"Have you kept in touch with anyone? The good ole'Class of 05?"

She scrunched up her nose and shook her head. "Not really. I haven't gone back in years, and high school was never really my thing. You?"

"A couple people here and there," he said. "Not enough to show up to any of the reunions."

"Don't worry, I wasn't even invited to them," she said.

He wasn't surprised. Katniss carried herself in a way that was endlessly fascinating, but also incredibly intimidating. There were people who wanted to know her -- he was at the front of that line, but nobody knew how.

"Probably got lost in the mail," he said.

She sipped on her drink. "Probably."

"What brings you to New York?" 

She slid her glass to the side and pulled the plate of nachos closer. "I live there," she said. "Well, Queens."

She lived in his city. She was living in his city and he had no idea. He set his beer down abruptly, and it wobbled on the table, searching for a flat surface.

"Really? Since when?"

"A few years," she said, picking at a chip.

"What made you pick New York?" he said. He didn't know her that well, but she always came off as a wilderness type. One who would be happy living in the woods without another soul in sight, not one of the most populated cities in the world.

"It's sort of a long story."

Peeta rolled up his sleeve to read his watch. "I've got fifty-eight minutes," he said with a grin.

She ate another nacho, covering her mouth with her hand while she chewed. "I joined the army after high school and I hated it. Got out as soon as my time was up. But while I was gone my mother had moved, so I couldn't go home. Tried the college thing for a while and hated that too. Then Madge Undersee -- do you remember her? We reconnected through facebook or something. She was at Columbia and told me I should visit. So I did. And I stayed."

"Yeah? What do you do?"

"I'm a firefighter."

His eyes widened and he nodded a few times. "That certainly puts me to shame," he said.

"Why? What do you do?"

He cocked his head to the side. "Would you laugh if I said I was a stand up comedian?"

She forced a serious expression and leaned forward on her elbows. "Only if you were a funny one."

He laughed out loud and took a swig from his beer.

"Does that mean you travel a lot?" she said.

"Me? No. I do the same five clubs with no cover every weekend, and when I do go on the road, it's six of us crammed into a rental car and splitting a room at the Motel 6."

"Sounds glamorous," she said wryly.

"It is," he said, maintaining a straight face.

"What does that entail exactly, being a comedian?" she said, stirring at her margarita again.

"You mean how do I afford my rent?"

"I didn't mean it like that."

"I know," he said. "I was originally going to be an artist -- which is somehow an even less lucrative career. When I first got started, I was working at a couple different bakeries, including a somewhat famous one in SoHo, which is not the famous one you're thinking of. That paid the bills until I got a decent agent."

"What pays the bills now?"

He cringed. "Acting, I guess. I have a small role in next summer's Finnick Odair Blockbuster. Just got back from filming."

Her eyes widened. "Are you serious? That's amazing."

"Not at all. You served this country and protect the nation's cats from trees, and all I've done is watch Finnick Odair get his abs airbrushed on." He scrubbed his hand over his face. "And apparently, crack demeaning jokes about professions that are far more respected than mine. I think I need another beer," he said, turning in his seat to call their waiter.

She leaned across the table further. "Finnick Odair's abs are airbrushed?"

He mirrored her stance. "Only when the lighting's bad."

She ordered another margarita. "They don't let me rescue the cats," she said with an offhanded shrug. "I mean if the stupid things can get up there, they can find a way to get down."

He laughed. Sides aching, hunched over, tears in his eyes laughter. "They reserve you for the less important, secondary tasks. Fires and such."

"So long as there are no cats in the building."

He swiped a nacho from her plate.

"I'm assuming you live in New York too, right?" she said, clinking the ice in her glass. He nodded. "What part?"

"The Village."

"Obviously," she said. Her cheeks were flushed with warmth and her smile was broad before her lips wrapped around her straw.

"Obviously," he said in the same dry tone.

"Remember Mr. Abernathy?" she said. He was an English teacher at Panem High. Peeta and Katniss were in the same section for 9th and 11th grade. "He grew up in the Village, but then the yuppies came and ruined it."

"It was far nicer as a crack den, I'm sure."

"New York isn't like it used to be," she said with playful haughtiness.

"I kind of like it."

Her eyes slid to his. "I like it too."

He tried not to read too much into the look she flashed him. The darkness that swirled in her eyes. It was his imagination. 

"Our flight will probably be boarding soon," he said.

The gate was still seething with frustration when they returned, with businessmen lined up in the premiere boarding line, waiting vigilantly as if they hadn't moved the entire time out of fear of losing their place.

The plane was parked outside now, and passengers were streaming intermittently off the jet way.

"Good evening and welcome to Flight 1274 with service to New York, Laguardia. The cabin is being cleaned up as we speak, and we should begin boarding in the next few minutes. To speed things up, we ask that everyone line up according to their boarding number."

Peeta's boarding pass read "2." Katniss's "4."

"See you on the other side," he said with a warm smile.

"Yeah," she said. "See you."

As Peeta waited to be herded through the jet way like cattle, he wondered if that was the way they should have parted. He should have suggested they get dinner sometime. Get her number. Make concrete plans. It wasn't like he wouldn't see her again. They'd be trapped in a flying metal box for another three hours. There would be baggage claim assuming she'd checked luggage, and the bus stop, assuming she wouldn't take a cab.

Peeta felt his pulse spike. He should have asked for her number.

When he finally stepped onto the plane, he found his seat and dumped his bag in the overhead. He usually wasn't opposed to chatting with the person beside him -- he was a people person, he loved people, but he was tired from the long day, and grumpy for messing up his chances with Katniss, so he buckled his seat belt, pulled on his headphones, and tried his best to fall asleep.

There was a tap on his shoulder. He opened one eye then quickly sat up, ripping his headphones off his ears.

"I think you've got my seat belt," Katniss said, holding up a single, lonely strap.

Peeta was too dumbfounded to do anything for a moment, then patted around his seat, locating the missing strap he'd been sitting on.

"You again?" he said, unable to hide his grin.

"I'm afraid so."

"How much you pay to get into that seat?" he said.

She smiled. "A pretty penny. The girls out there heard you came from Hollywood. The bidding war was high."

"No match for you though?"

"Of course not, it was over my ticket," she said.

He wrapped up the chord to his headphones and tucked them into the seat back pocket. "That was quite the sacrifice on your part."

"You never know who you'll be stuck sitting next to."

"I should have you write my set. I think you're funnier than I am."

She shook her head. "I doubt that."

"I guess I never pictured you that way. In high school you always seemed so serious."

"How so?" she said resting her elbow on their shared armrest, and for the first time in his life, Peeta was grateful for the complete lack of personal space domestic air travel now afforded.

"You scowled a lot." She scowled at him. "Like that."

"Things weren't great then," she said with a shrug.

His smile softened. Katniss's father had died when they were kids. Probably when they were in elementary school, but he couldn't remember the exact year. Her sister was sick a lot too and passed away a few weeks after Peeta had left for college.

"Things are better though?"

"Yeah," she said, her gaze focused somewhere on the floor. "I thought you'd be a politician."

"What?"

"In high school," she said. "It was obvious you were funny, but you were also charming and charismatic. That dangerous combination that always seems to go into politics." She gripped her armrests. "I hate this part," she said.

The plane began to thunder, and glancing out the window, Peeta saw the runway lights speed by in bright streaks. He hadn't even noticed the safety briefing.

"You thought I was some jerk politician?" he said when the plane began to level off.

"I never said that. I probably would have voted for you."

He grinned. "What else did you notice about me?"

She narrowed her eyes. "Not much."

"I'm surprised you noticed me at all. It didn't seem like it."

She wasn't looking at him anymore. She tightened her seat belt. "You were kind of hard to miss."

"How so?"

"Would either of you like a drink?" the flight attendant was asking with a cocktail napkin poised in her hand.

"I'll have a water with no ice, please," Katniss said. 

Part of Peeta was disappointed. He'd hoped she'd get another drink before her buzz wore off and she stopped talking to him.

"Tea, please," he said.

"Cream or sugar?"

He shook his head.

"How can you drink it like that?" Katniss said.

The liquid didn't look too hot, so he raised the cup in a toast and took a sip. "Like this."

She shuddered. "I can't stand anything like that without at least two packets of sugar."

"Really?" He lifted both eyebrows in surprise. "I would have had you pegged as the black coffee and dry toast type."

"That sounds terrible." Her eyes slid to the overhead screens where the in flight entertainment had started. "Is that you?"

Peeta looked up. It was. "No," he said.

She reached for the airline magazine. "It looks like you."

It was a small independent film he'd shot last winter with a few of his friends. The only reason it had picked up any traction was because Caesar Flickerman had taken the lead role, a huge departure from his late night schtick. He couldn't believe they were playing it on an airplane. He didn't think the movie even played in a theater.

Katniss flipped the pages to the in flight services. There was a still from the movie, and a blurb, but Peeta wasn't listed in the credits.

"See?" he said over her shoulder.

She turned to scowl at him. Their faces were so close. She licked her lips slowly. Deliberately. He kissed her behind the airline magazine. "It is me," he whispered.

She dropped the magazine and reached for her purse. He had really blown it now. She was going to call for the flight attendant, or the air marshal, even, to have him detained. He shouldn't have kissed her. Why had he kissed her?

"I want to watch the movie," she said, fishing out her headphones.

He still couldn't read her. "I didn't mean to do that," he said.

"Do what?" she said, feigning oblivion.

Peeta felt his chest tighten and shifted in his seat to look out the window. This was going to be a long three hours. There was a sudden weight on his shoulder, and when he looked, he found Katniss leaning against him. She smiled shyly at him before turning her attention back to the screen.

He looked out the window and bit back his own smile.

He woke with the cabin lights. His neck sore from being pressed awkwardly against the window. His throat was sore and dry. He really hated flying.

Katniss was engaged in her own hazy stretch.

"Hey," he said.

She flattened out her fraying braid. "Hey."

He'd just woken up beside Katniss Everdeen.

"That's nice," she said, pointing out the window towards the flickering lights of the Midtown skyline, visible through their descent. 

He sat back in his seat so she would have a better view. He couldn't stop looking at her. "Yeah," he said.

She caught him staring. "What?" she said.

He bit his tongue to stop himself, then said it anyway. "You know when you think things are going to go a certain way, but then it happens, and the reality is not at all how you pictured?"

"And?"

"I was just admiring the reality," he said, his shoulder quirking slightly.

The wheels touched down, and the force of the plane speeding down the runway weighed heavily against his chest. The plane slowed. The weight lifted.

"You want to come to one of my show's sometime?" he said.

She looked surprised. "Yes," she answered quickly.

He grinned. "I'm glad I ran into you, Katniss."

"Me too."


End file.
